


Don't Think About It

by Dragomir



Series: How To Torture Your Older Sister: A Guide by Jacob Frye [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Non-graphic injuries, Off-screen Relationship(s), Rugburns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 02:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14781954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/pseuds/Dragomir
Summary: Evie is going to kill her brother once she stops laughing at him.





	Don't Think About It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eriakit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriakit/gifts).



> Blame Eriakit.

Evie stared at Jacob, then down at her hand where it was still on his shoulder. Best to tread carefully, since they were in a state of truce right now. But she really _did_ have to know...

"Jacob. Did you injure yourself again?" She looked around for Henry, who was perhaps the best doctor currently available. (She was _never_ letting the Rooks conduct anything resembling their 'medical treatments' again. Branding irons and whiskey were _not_ cure-alls.) "I'm not angry. But if you're hurt..." Oh no. He'd done something in the rigging at that laughing madman's theater, hadn't he? Wrenched his shoulder, trying to impress Roth. (Why couldn't her brother have stuck with idolizing Edward Kenway? At least the pirate was too dead to be an influence!)

"'s fine," Jacob replied, voice tight. "Really." His face was red enough Evie thought it might start glowing. They could use him as a sign for Henry's shop at this rate.

"Take your shirt off. I'll get Henry and the sheep liniment." Her tone was no-nonsense, and if Jacob were wise, he would obey. She'd nag him into compliance if she had to. It wasn't anything she'd hadn’t done before.

She returned with Henry a few minutes later, Henry with his bag and her with the liniment and a lecture about proper safety in dangerous spots in mind. Her brother's back was.... Well, honestly, it was just his shoulders and part of his neck. It looked like a _rash_. A horrible, vile rash, like when he'd rolled down a hill back in Crawley, or when he’d gone skidding across Father’s favorite rug...

"Jacob, did someone use you to mop the floor?"

Jacob made a strangled noise and buried his face in his folded arms.

"Jacob." Evie scowled at her brother. "I will hit that burn again if you don't say who it was."

" _Roth_." Jacob's voice was incredibly muffed, buried as his face was in his arms. "It was Roth."

Evie thought about it for a few minutes, and then the pieces clicked into place. She smacked his back again anyways, just for forcing her to imagine _naked Maxwell Roth_.

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a tag to Eriakit's story? Idek, we're just creating a feedback loop so much I might as well just blame her at this point.


End file.
